


Place of Belonging

by Madam_Fandom



Series: Requested [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Meet Differently, Angels, Bisexual John, Death, Doctor John Watson, F/M, Fallen Angels, Falling In Love, First Kiss, First Love, First Time, Forbidden Love, I'm Bad At Tagging, Johnlock - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Molly, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Mycroft is an Angel, Sentiment, Sex, Sexual Content, Sherlock is an Angel, Sherlock is fascinated, Tags Are Hard, True Love, city of angels, no bad guys, only love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-21
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-09 13:35:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7803877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madam_Fandom/pseuds/Madam_Fandom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another alternate meeting AU by request, the lovely ZygomataAmore. It is done in the style of the movie City of Angels with Meg Ryan and Nicolas Cage. Link to the IMDB page is in the end notes.</p><p> </p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ZygomataAmore](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZygomataAmore/gifts).



> London comes from the Latin 'Londinium' and at the time it was the capital of Brittania. The name Londinium is thought to be pre-Roman in origin although there is no agreement on what it means. It may mean 'place belonging to a man called Londinios'.

 

John Watson sat on the roof of the hospital. Tears streaming down his face. _What did I do wrong? Was I distracted? Was I too cocky? NOT ON MY TABLE! NEVER ON MY TABLE! IT ISN’T SUPPOSE TO HAPPEN!_

John was a heart surgeon at the local hospital. He had just lost a patient that he performed surgery on. Everything seemed to go okay, but after he left the O.R. the patient coded. He'd gone back in and tried  everything he could to save him, it hadn't been enough. In an attempt to make him feel better, one of his team told him it happens to everybody, but it wasn’t suppose to happen to him.

John was mentally berating himself over something that had been totally out of his hands. It was just time for Mr. Rodack to go. His time was up. John couldn’t see the dark haired man in front of him. The man had his hands over John's, trying to offer comfort that John couldn’t feel.

John’s tears started to subside, he couldn’t explain it, but the pain felt like it had lessened and almost like he wasn’t alone. He looked up, and had he been able to see the dark haired man, he would have been staring him right in the face. John turned one of his hands palm up as he looked around. He really felt like he was being watched. Wiping his eyes he got up and headed back into the hospital, he tried to put on a neutral face so as to avoid any pity from the other doctors.

*******

“Mycroft, have you ever been seen?”

“That’s a silly question, you’re seeing me now.”

“No, by a human. There was a moment on the roof that John looked right at me as if he could see me.”

“You know they can only see you if you want them to.”

“What if I want him to?”

Mycroft looked over to his companion, smiling slightly, speculating what he was up to. “Why would you want him to?” he countered.

“Because he is grieving. He’s hurting. He thinks it's his fault that his patient died today. But it’s not.”

“I know that Sherlock, and you know that.”

The two men were on the pediatric floor of the hospital, currently in an Operating Room. Mycroft was standing behind a surgeon operating on a small girl. And Sherlock was standing next to the little girl, holding her hand. The surgeon was having doubts, wondering if she could save the little girl. Mycroft fed reassurance into her and lent a steady hand, helping her finish the surgery. While Sherlock kept the little girl's mind serene and at peace while she was being operated on. When the procedure was over they were able to call it a success. The surgeon celebrated with her team as the little girl was wheeled to recovery.

“See Sherlock, they don’t need to know we are here. Most people don’t even believe in angels anymore.”

Sherlock remained silent. He couldn’t shake the thought of John grieving alone.

 *******

Later on Sherlock stood outside of John’s favorite restaurant and watched him through the window. He seemed to be even more affected than before. Although he was in a restaurant, he wasn’t eating, but was holding a glass filled with a light brown liquid. Liquor, Sherlock was guessing. He could hear the turmoil in John’s mind. _I don’t deserve to be a doctor. I killed that man. It was my fault no one else's. I should just end it. Save others from the same fate._

Sherlock was alarmed by the turn of events. How could this gentle man be contemplating taking his own life?

 

John looked up, there was a man standing next to his table. He was beautiful. Dark curly hair and blue eyes. He was looking at John in such a way that made John ache to be held. Clearing his throat he asked the man, “Can I help you with something?”

Sherlock panicked. He hadn’t actually thought this far ahead. He just knew he wanted to keep John’s thoughts from suicide. “Um, could I perhaps join you?”

John gestured to the other seat. “Suit yourself, I'm lousy company right now anyways.”

“Why are you sad John?”

“Who says I’m sad?”

“Are you in despair?”

John looked at this complete stranger and wanted to tell him everything, so he did.

“You know it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know! I did everything right. But he still died. I literally held his heart in my hands. I don't know what more I could've done." John sat silent for a moment. "What’s your name, I’m sorry I didn’t ask before I started running my mouth.”

“That’s quite all right. The name's Sherlock." Sherlock paused, just reveling in the fact that he was sitting face to face with John Watson, and he told him his name. "But honestly John, there was nothing you could do. There are somethings that are just out of your control. He was called home.”

“But...but I don't believe in that kind of, I don't believe.” John finished lamely.

“Some things are true rather you believe them or not.” John gave a small watery smile.

“Hey, you want to get out of here?” John asked suddenly.

“Yes.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Anything.” Sherlock answered, he was very excited. He and John Watson were having a conversation. He could see him. It didn’t matter what they did, as long as John continued to see and talk to him.

 

They ended up walking back to John’s place. Once inside John asked Sherlock if he would like to watch a movie with him. Sherlock said that he would.

“Over there are my movies, just pick one out while I make us some popcorn.”

Sherlock went to the shelf that John had indicated and looked at all the titles. One in particular caught his eye. He grabbed it and sat down on the couch waiting for John.

When John joined him, he handed Sherlock the popcorn while he put the movie in the disc player. “Angels in the Outfield. Good movie. Ever seen it?”

Sherlock shook his head enthusiastically. “No I don’t watch movies or television.”

“No? Never?”

Sherlock shook his head no.

“Wow. Okay.” John turned out the light and pressed play. Several minutes into the movie, John reached over and took some popcorn from the bowl. Sherlock watched the journey of the popcorn from the bowel to John’s mouth, fascinated. He continued to watch the process, finally John turned to him and smiled.

“You know you can eat some of the popcorn too.”

Sherlock leaned into John, closer than most people would seem polite, “What does it taste like?”

John looked at Sherlock disbelieving. “Popcorn?”

Sherlock nodded his head.

“Don’t you know what popcorn taste like?”

“I don’t know what it taste like to you. Could you describe it?”

John turned to Sherlock, the movie completely forgotten for the moment. “Um, I don’t...I can’t.” John looked away suddenly embarrassed.

“Please John. Just do your best.”

John placed a piece in his mouth, taking his time savoring it. “At first it’s salty a little soft, then it starts to get mushy. It can be crunchy...Ugh, I don't know.” Blushing and looking away John asked how he did.

“Perfect.”

John smiled to himself turning back to the movie, he unconsciously rested against Sherlock, their arms touching. While John watched the movie Sherlock watched him, enraptured. John was a beautiful human being. Inside and out. Sherlock inclined his head, sniffing at John’s hair. He knew he wouldn’t be able to smell it, but he did it all the same.

John pretended not to notice, he found it strangely endearing.

 

About 30 minutes later John's front door opened and a woman walked in. Sherlock and John both turned to look at her. She paused, clearly caught off guard.

John tapped himself in the head. “Oh my gosh. I am so sorry. I totally forgot about dinner. My friend and I came back here to watch a movie and I kinda binged out on popcorn.” John had gone to the woman and kissed her quickly on the lips.

Sherlock stood up, he felt, well he wasn't sure what it was he felt when he saw John kiss this woman. It was clear to him that they were in a relationship. “I should probably get going anyway. Nice to meet you Mary. Goodbye John.” Sherlock left out the door.

 

“So, does your friend have a name?”

“Sherlock.”

“Sherlock? What an unusual name. Speaking of names, how did he know my name? Were you telling him all about me?” Mary teased.

John frowned. Now that Mary mentioned it, he hadn’t told Sherlock his name or Mary’s. How in the world had he know? “Um, no actually. I’m not sure how he knew your name.”

“Well where did you meet Sherlock?”

“We only just met actually. Down the block at the restaurant.”

 

Mary took off her coat and sat where Sherlock had just vacated. “I heard about Mr. Rodack John. Why didn’t you call me? I’m trying to be here for you, but you have to let me. You do know it wasn’t your fault right?”

John sighed and said yes.

“Do you?”

“I don’t know Mary. Sherlock said the same thing. That it wasn’t my fault and that I had done everything I could possibly have done. That it was just Mr. Rodack's time to go.”

“I like him.”

“Sherlock?” John frowned. This was unexpected.

“I like him. I think he could be a positive influence. Are you going to see him again?” Mary asked grinning.

“What? I don’t know. Probably not. We didn’t exchange numbers or anything. Like I literally just met him a couple hours ago.” 

John finally sat down next to Mary and she snuggled into him.

 

Sherlock stood near John’s front door, after leaving he came back in, invisible, watching John and Mary. He told himself it was to make sure John was truly okay and no longer contemplating suicide. But if he was honest with himself, he wanted to see if they were happy together and what type of person Mary was. She looked very happy and content. John on the other hand was still troubled. But at least he seemed content in the moment.

Sherlock was just about to leave when he heard John’s next thought.

_I hope I do see Sherlock again, had he not walked into the restaurant when he did , I think I would have killed myself tonight._

Sherlock smiled. He did good tonight.

 


	2. Chapter 2

John was walking through the hospital halls when he spotted a familiar head of curly black hair. It was Sherlock. He was standing outside the nursery. “Hey Sherlock. Fancy running into you here. What _are_ you doing here?”

John was smiling up at Sherlock, and he found it hard to form a sentence while looking down into that brilliant smile. “Visiting.”

“Oh. Is it a friend that recently had a baby?”

“No. I like looking after babies.”

“Hmm-” Before John could say anything more his beeper went off. “Shit. I have to run. I'm being paged.” John turned and took off, halfway down the hall he turned and called out, maybe I'll run into you again.”

Sherlock smiled to himself. He would like that. He followed John upstairs to his patient's room.

 

“Mr. Lestrade. You have to take this seriously.”

“I am taking it seriously. I’m not going anywhere.”

“Your surgery is tomorrow afternoon. You think you can behave until then? No more sneaking food in here. I would hate to have to call your wife again.”

“Fine! I’ll behave. You won’t have to worry about me anymore doc.”

“Good. Now I will see you tomorrow. Get some rest.” John patted the patient on his shoulder and then left out closing the door behind him. Sherlock was following behind John when the patient spoke. “I can’t see you, but I know you’re here. You tell the man upstairs I’m not going anywhere yet! I still got some living to do.

Sherlock appeared to the man. “How did you know I was here?”

“Easy. I use to be one of you.”

“That’s not possible.”

“Anything’s possible. Do you really think God gave humans the gift of free will and didn’t give it to us?”

“Tell me.”

“Let’s make a deal and then I will tell you everything you want to know.”

 

Sherlock and Mr. Lestrade were sitting inside an all night diner. Mr. Lestrade had a huge sundae sitting in front of him along with a huge glass of beer.

“Greg Lestrade.” He held his hand out to Sherlock. “Come on shake it. That’ll boy, tighter. No, no, not that tight.”

Sherlock let go of the man’s hand.

“What’s your name kid?”

“Sherlock.”

“Lemme ask you something. If you weren’t there for me, why on earth were in my room?”

Sherlock looked away.

“How do I know you were really an angel before?” He asked avoiding Lestrade's question.

_You can hear my thoughts right now. And you only have to think of where you wanna be, to be there._

The man grinned at Sherlock as he put another mouthful of the ice cream sundae in his mouth.

 

Sherlock was in shock. “So how did you become human?”

“I fell.”

"Fell?"

“Fell from up there. You have to make the decision and then just take the dive.”

“Why did you decide to become human?”

Greg pulled his wallet out showing a picture of a pretty woman to Sherlock. “For my wife, Molly. She is a tough cookie. Puts up with me you know. We’re expecting our first kid soon. Why are _you_ thinking about being human?”

Again Sherlock looked away.

Greg slammed a hand on the table laughing and startling Sherlock in the process. “It’s a woman!”

Sherlock looked baffled. “No.”

Greg stopped laughing. “A man?”

Sherlock smiled. “He is a wonderful human being.”

“Ahhh, you’re in love. Is it Dr. Watson? Is that why you were in my room?”

“In love?”

“Yup! I’d know that look anywhere. You have to tell him.”

“Did you tell Molly?”

“No. I started to plenty of times. But she’s a pathologist, into science and all that. She wouldn’t have believed me.”

“Some -”

“Some things are true rather you believe them or not. Yeah, yeah. I remember. Do the angels still gather at sunrise?”

“And at sunset.”

“Could you take me?”

 

The men stood on the shore of the beach as the sun was rising over the horizon. The sound of waves crashing against the shore mingled with the celestial choir.

“Can you hear it Greg? Can you hear the music?”

Greg looked sad. “No.”

He started stripping out of his clothes and ran into the water. “But you can’t feel this.”

Without thinking Sherlock ran into the water after Greg Lestrade. “We have to get you back. John will be upset if you are get sick, and he can't preform the surgery.”

“In a minute. Just let me enjoy this for a minute.”

*******

Sherlock and Mycroft sat on a bench in the zoo. People were walking all around them talking, laughing and having a great time.

“So you just jump and what, you’re just human?”

“You just make the decision to fall and that’s it.”

Mycroft sat back mystified. “So what are you waiting for Sherlock? You’re going to do it right?”

“I don’t know.”

*******

John was in a jubilant mood. Greg Lestrade’s surgery had been a success, he felt like he was walking on cloud 9. He was currently changing out of his scrubs and back into his regular clothes when there was a knock on the door. “John? Are you alone in there?” It was Mary.

“Yes. Come on in.”

Mary came in beaming at John. “Congratulations! I heard how well your surgery went. How do you feel?”

“I feel awesome. More like myself.”

“Good. I have something I want to ask you John.”

“Okay.”

“It’s a bit untraditional, but...marry me! We are so good together. Please say yes. Give me the honor of being Mrs. John Watson.”

John looked absolutely dumbfounded. “What? Are you-”

"Just think about it. We can be married at the courthouse and then go out to your sister’s cabin for our honeymoon. If we do it in a couple of weeks we’ll be back in time for our rotation at the hospital.”

John simply stared at Mary mouth slightly agape.

Mary leaned forward kissing him on the corner of his mouth. Just think about it will you. I gotta go.” Mary kissed John again quickly and left.

 

John wanted to check on Mr. Lestrade before leaving. When he entered the room he was surprised to see Sherlock there having a conversation with his patient. “Hey you two. I wasn’t aware you knew one another.” Sherlock smiled, instantly tuned into John. Mr. Lestrade watched the both of them. Sherlock had it bad. And John seemed to be equally interested. “Uh yeah. Sherlock and I go back quite a ways. Good man. To what do I owe the pleasure doc?”

“Oh. Right. I'm leaving for the day and just wanted to check on you before I went.”

“I feel great. A little tired. Mind taking Sherlock here off my hands so I can get some rest?” Lestrade winked at Sherlock when John looked away.

“Uh, sure. Have the nurses contact me if needed. Get some rest Lestrade.”

Sherlock followed John out of Lestrade’s room, closing the door behind him.

 

Sherlock and John walked silently out of the building, neither man spoke until they had reached outside.

“So do you have somewhere you need to be?” John asked, hands shoved in his pockets as he observed Sherlock.

“No, not really.”

“Come with me to the museum.”

Sherlock nodded his consent.

 

John and Sherlock walked around the almost empty museum, occasionally stopping at pieces that caught John's eye. Sherlock mainly watched John. They were passing a mural size painting of a man kissing a woman. The colors were pastels, soft and well blended. Sherlock stopped. This was the first piece to actual interest him. John seeing that he had stopped went back to stand next him. “Do you like this one?”

“Do you love Mary?” Sherlock asked suddenly. The words bursting from his mouth unintentionally.

“Uh, yeah...I mean...Hell I don’t know. What is love anyways?”

Sherlock looked at John slightly frowning. “I was hoping you could tell me.”

Sighing John started walking away from the painting and Sherlock followed. Absently John stopped in front of another painting several feet from the last. He looked up at Sherlock. “I could tell you the medical explanation for love. But I know that isn’t what you’re asking.”

John licked his lips. “Sherlock, why haven’t you given me your number? Are you married or seeing someone?”

Sherlock shook his head no.

“Why do you always wear the same clothes, are you homeless?”

Again Sherlock shook his head no. A ghost of a smile dancing across his lips.

John stepped in close, whispering, “Why don’t you touch me?”

Sherlock looked down at John, naked longing in his eyes. He didn’t know how to hide his emotions from John.

John was relieved to see this, it meant he hadn’t read the situation wrong and hadn’t just made a fool of himself. He licked his lips and took Sherlock’s hand.

“I don’t want to hurt you." Sherlock said gently.

“I can’t see you doing that.” John answered breathless. He placed a hand against Sherlock’s cheek and Sherlock covered it with his own hand.

Placing his other hand on the side of John’s face he lowered his mouth to his. Brushing his lips gently over John’s, letting the contact linger for a moment. Pulling apart Sherlock still had the look of longing and John looked floored.

“Did you- did you feel that?” John was smiling broadly at Sherlock. But Sherlock didn’t return his smile, he just looked at him sadly. John backed away from Sherlock, letting their hands drop; he felt like an idiot. “Um you should just go.”

John turned his back on Sherlock. He was turning back around to apologize when he saw that Sherlock was gone. He couldn’t have moved that quickly. John sighed heavily. What a mess he was in. He was in a relationship with Mary. And she was great. They were both in the medical field and their lives worked good together. But then along comes Sherlock at a time he needed someone most. He feared he was half in love with him already. This was a disaster waiting to happen. John needed more info about Sherlock before he could really make any concrete decisions.

Groaning he realized yet again he didn’t have a way to contact Sherlock.

 

John looked up at the painting in front of him. It was a minimalist painting of a man being kissed by a male angel. It was exquisitely done, but it made him think of Sherlock and that in turn saddened him.

Leaving the museum John found himself back at the hospital. He went up to Mr. Lestrade’s room, hoping he was awake but not really wanting to bother him. He knocked on the door once, waited only a moment and was walking away when he heard “Come in.”

 

John walked in, he felt he was overstepping some imaginary line and he was mildly embarrassed that he was going to a patient to get information about his friend. 

“Hey doc! Didn’t expect to see you back here so soon. Get called in for an emergency?”  

“No. I actually came to ask you a question. Do you know how I can get in touch with Sherlock? He and I had a small disagreement and I want to apologize.”

Lestrade looked upset at John’s words. “No sorry. Sherlock is a little different. He has lived a very sheltered life you could say. He hasn’t really lived the way most of us has; and he doesn’t have a phone number or any conventional way to reach him. I can’t tell you where he lives, but if he comes by I will tell him you are looking for him.”

John smiled grimly and left feeling lost and dejected.

 

When John returned home Mary was there. They had a peaceful night in. As he lay next to her that night, he couldn’t sleep. His thoughts kept going back to Sherlock. He thought about what Lestrade had said. _Sherlock has lived a different life than most of us._ Maybe that explained why he saw things differently. He seemed so stoic most times yet he had an inner joy and fascination with everything he experienced. And the way he looked at John like he hung the moon. It made John’s knees weak and mouth dry.

John was still wide awake when Mary got up at 4am to get ready for her shift.

“Not sleeping again love?”

“Not tonight.”

Mary laid her head on John’s chest. “I hope it isn’t over what I asked you yesterday. No need to lose sleep over it.”

John didn’t respond because it was in part what she had asked him. She wanted to get married.

Placing a kiss on his chest Mary got out of bed. “I need to get ready for my shift.”

John nodded absently.

 

After Mary left John got up showered made himself a cup of coffee. Partway through the cup he had an overwhelming need to go to the beach. Deciding he should go, it had been years since he had seen the sunrise at the beach. The beach also had a calming affect on John most times that he went. It would probably do him good in his current state. Grabbing a towel just in case he also decided to get in the water John head out.

*******

“Isn’t that your human?” Mycroft asked Sherlock pointing down the beach.

“That is John Watson yes.”

“He appears sad. You should go to him.”

“I think I made him sad. Because I can’t interact with him the way another human can.”

“Go to him Sherlock.”

Sherlock pursed his lips. Unsure what sort of welcome John would give him, he made himself visible and went down to him.

*******

John was sitting in the sand, several yards away from the water when he heard steps. There were a few threads of light snaking across the sky, but it was only just lighting up, he had to wait for the person to get closer before he could see who it was. Looking up John was surprised to see it was Sherlock approaching him. “You again?” 

“Sorry. I can leave if you like.”

“No. It’s fine. Funny how I spend my entire life here and have never run into you, and now I run into practically every other day. Amazing.”

Sherlock sat down next to John in the sand. The sun was slowly coming up and he started to hear the first strands of that beautiful music. He looked over to John, he had his eyes closed and face raise to the sky. Like he could hear the music.

“Do you hear it?” Sherlock questioned.

“Hear what?”

“Nothing.”

Sherlock closed his eyes and lifted his face up too. Taking in the beautiful celestial choir. His hand covering John’s in the sand.

 

At full daybreak the music stopped and Sherlock brought his face down and slowly opened his eyes. John was staring at him. He smiled weakly, letting go of John’s hand he stood up. Brushing the sand from his hands he looked about for Mycroft, but it appeared that all the other angels had already left. Sherlock looked down at John. “Do you have to be at the hospital today?”

“No.”

“Would you spend the day with me?”


	3. Chapter 3

John sat across from Sherlock, arms crossed feeling smug. They had been playing monopoly for about two and a half hours. Most people would be tired of the game by now and demand something new, not Sherlock. He was currently losing, but wanted to press on. John had explained the concept of the game to him and he had slowly caught on over the past couple of hours. John watched him openly. Sherlock seemed to be trying to calculate every possible scenario of the game. He was currently in jail and was down to $700 dollars. John knew from experience there was no way for Sherlock to win the game at this point. John owned almost all of the properties; but it was fun to watch Sherlock’s face all screwed up in concentration.

 

“Okay Sherlock. I’ve won. Let’s move on to something else.”

Sherlock looked up at John with big eyes. “But the game isn’t over. There are still properties to be bought.”

John coved Sherlock’s hand with own. “Come on let’s do something else.”

“Like what?”

“What’s something you have always wanted to try but haven’t?”

Sherlock thought long and hard. He couldn’t tell John he wanted to touch him, kiss him; and to be touched in return, to feel it. That was what he wanted more than anything in this world. So he tried to think of something else he could do that humans do all.

They had done a couple of things already. They had stayed at the beach for several hours this morning. He’d watched John eat breakfast. Sherlock had also listened to John read several chapters from his favorite book.

“Any day Sherlock.” John rushed.

Sherlock turned his bright blue eyes on him and John's breath caught.

“How about rollerskating?”

John looked thrilled. Sherlock let out a breath, he’d choose well then. “I’ve always thought it looked a lot like flying, only on the ground.”

“You’ve flown before?” John asked excitedly?

Sherlock realizing his slip up, clampped down on his excitment. “No.”

“Oh. Well we can do that. No problem; let’s go. But I get to choose next.”

Forty minutes later John was laughing so hard he was bent double. “Sherlock! Put your toe down! Use the break!” They had rented roller skates out on the boardwalk. Sherlock had finally managed to stay upright, but not for long. John was laughing again as he rushed down the walk to Sherlock who had just landed on his butt again.

Trying to catch his breath and stop laughing John ended up on the ground beside Sherlock. Sherlock found that John’s laughter was infectious, he laughed along with the other man.

When John finally got himself under control he got to his feet and held out a hand to help Sherlock to up. When John pulled up, Sherlock flew into his arms, still haven’t gotten the hang of staying on his feet. He wrapped his arms around the taller man, keeping them from toppling over again, “I got you” he whispered.

They looked into one another eyes and John started to lean in to kiss Sherlock but remembered how their last kiss ended up; so instead he set Sherlock solidly on his feet, taking his hand he began to skate slowly.

Sherlock felt sad. He wished he could feel John’s hand in his. He wanted to hold the other man and kiss him and do the other things he’s witnessed couples doing. But even without the sense of touch this was still the best day of his existence.

The men skated hand in hand for several yards before John slowed them down and turned back around. “Okay Sherlock let me see you try on your way again.” Sherlock took a couple of wobbly strides before evening out and getting more confidence. He began taking longer and stronger strides, then he closed his eyes, with his head back and arms outstretched he glided for several feet before someone yelled “Hey watch it!”

Sherlock opened his eyes smiling widely, and then panic set in, he realized he didn’t know how to stop. He started flailing his arms trying to stop. He heard John calling behind him. “The break Sherlock!” Sherlock saw the sand to the left of him and veered that way to bring himself to a stop with as little collateral damage as possible. When his wheels hit the sand he fell forward, face first.

 

John reached him concern etched all over his face. “Are you okay?” Sherlock was struggling to stand up and shake the sand out of his hair.

“Yes.” he answered, spitting sand out of his mouth. John laughed again and helped Sherlock stand, leading him out of the sand. Sherlock walked over to the closest bench. He was sure if he could feel, he would be sore all over. John sat beside him, watching him like he was making sure Sherlock was really okay. Sherlock smiled at him, “I'm okay. John, truly.”

The men took their skates off and walked to collect their shoes. “Did you enjoy that? John asked?

“Very much so. Thank you.”

The men put their shoes back on and stood there watching the water hit the shore. “It’s beautiful out here.” John said.

Sherlock was looking at John as he said, “Yes, but you are God’s most beautiful creation.”

John blanched, he looked at Sherlock shocked. “Thank you Sherlock, but I don’t think that is exactly true.” _You have got the be the most beautiful thing ever created. I could look at you all day._

Sherlock heard John’s thoughts and he blushed, but said nothing.

“Let’s get you something to eat.” Sherlock suggested, “And then you can pick the next activity.

John smiled to himself, the sun would be setting in about two hours, perfect timing.

 

John sat across from Sherlock in the restaurant that they first met. It was amazing when John thought about it. He felt like he had known Sherlock for years. When in fact he’d only known him a couple of days. He genuinely felt he was in love with this enigmatic man. He had a surprise for their next activity. John hoped Sherlock liked it. He had spent this time with Sherlock to try and figure out if Sherlock did care for him like he thought he did. And if he did, John had to figure out what to do. Mary wanted to marry him. He loved her, they were a good fit like she said, but on the other hand there was Sherlock.

Sherlock was on pins and needles listening to John’s thoughts. What was the surprise? He was contemplating marriage? And John thought he loved him. The last thought made Sherlock feel as though he was going to explode with the emotions running through him. Sherlock wasn’t sure how he should feel about the rest of John's thoughts, but he knew the thought of not being able to see John again hurt.

 

Both men sat in silence while John ate, lost in their own thoughts. When John had finished and paid, they walked back to John’s place. John was excited again and it made Sherlock nervous.

“I have to grab some supplies for our next stop.” John rushed off to his room and came back with his arms full of blankets and pillows. Sherlock cocked his head to the side trying to figure out what they could possibly doing. John passed him the pillows. “Come on Sherlock, follow me." John trekked up the stairs of his building to the roof, with Sherlock trailing right behind him. Sitting the pile of blankets on the ground, John grabbed one of the thickest blankets and started laying it out. “Help me Sherlock.”

Sherlock helped John layer several blankets down on top of each other, making a pallet to lay upon. John threw the pillows down next. “Okay. Take off your shoes.” Sherlock watched John toe his off and followed suit.

Crawling into the middle of the pallet John lay down opening his arms, beckoning Sherlock to lay with him.

Sherlock intrigued climbed in beside him, laying his head in the crook of John's shoulder.

The sun was setting and a slight chill was settling over the night. John pulled the top blanket up over them. The two men lay there watching as the sun disappeared and the stars crept out.

“What is the one thing you want most?” John asked quietly.

Sherlock knew what he wanted, but he couldn’t think of a way to tell John without giving himself away. He pretended to think. "I want more than anything, to be by your side always. To _feel_ you as another human being feels.”

John thought that sounded nice, but the bit about human being was odd. “I want to marry the one person meant for me and spend the rest of my life showing them how much I love them. Experiencing new and old things with them.” John replied, answering his own question.

Sherlock wanted that for himself; for them. But how could they have that? The only way he could see it happening is if he fell. He believed that he loved John Watson. He had weird stirrings in his chest when he thought of leaving him, and he grew incredibly sad.

They didn’t speak for quite some time. Just enjoying each other's presence and the beautiful night sky. Around 9pm John’s beeper went off , groaning he looked at it then scrambled up. “I’ve got an emergency at the hospital. I’ve got go.” John and Sherlock grabbed all the blankets and pillows, rushing back downstairs and depositing them on John’s couch.

After locking up John turned to Sherlock grinning. “I really enjoyed our day. Thank you.” he reached up, planting a chaste kiss against Sherlock’s cheek. “Goodnight Sherlock.” John yelled out as he was rushing out and to the hospital.

 

Grinning Sherlock appeared in Mr. Lestrade’s room.

“Why are you smiling like the cat that ate the canary?” Lestrade questioned, smiling too.

“I think I’m in love.” he said quietly. “Do you ever miss it?”

“Heaven and watching over people? Yes. All the time. But I would fall again in a heartbeat for my Molly.”

“John is thinking about marrying Mary.” Sherlock announced without preamble.

“What!? What about you two? He’s asked me about you a couple of times, trying to get info on you. I’m _positive_ he feels the same. As man, what’re ya going to do?”

“ I don’t know. I feel like I should leave and let John be with Mary.”

“What? No! That's _not_ what you should do.”

“Isn’t it for the best? They are both human. They fit well together as I heard John think.”

“Your happiness matters too Sherlock. That’s the point of free will. What would make you happy? Letting them go off and get married isn't it.”

“I don’t know Greg.”

“Think about it, please.”

“I’ll see you later.” Sherlock stated sounding very despondent.

Sherlock appeared on the beach. He sat there all night thinking. When the sun rose and the celestial choir began singing, Sherlock had come to a decision.


	4. Chapter 4

“Mr. Lestrade, you haven’t heard from Sherlock?”

“No. I thought the two of you were off frolicking in the sunshine somewhere.”

“No. It’s been almost a week since I last seen or heard from him.” John sounded extremely disheartened. 

John was completing a follow up on Lestrade, “Everything looks and sounds okay. You’re doing well. I’ll be by to check on you one more time at the end of the week. And if everything is still okay you get to go home.” 

Lestrade was buttoning his shirt back up when he spoke, “Hey doc, if I see him I’ll tell him you’re looking for him.”

John nodded, pursing his lips, “Thanks.”

 

When John had left, Sherlock materialised next to Lestrade. Lestrade looked at him, disappointment all over his face. “You sure you haven’t fell, taken the plunge?”

Sherlock shook his head, “No, why?”

“Because you're already acting like a two bit human. You spent the day with the doc, had the time of your life and then disappeared like it never happened. You didn’t even give him an explanation as to why you just left. You probably got him thinking it was something he did. You owe him an explanation Sherlock, it’s the least you could do.” Lestrade stared at Sherlock hard, hoping he was getting his point across. “And then, you got me lying to him, saying I ain't seen ya. I don’t like lying.”

“I understand. I won’t burden you with my problems again.” Sherlock appeared at John’s place before Lestrade could open his mouth to speak. He didn’t know when John would be home but he’ll wait. He didn’t want John thinking this was his fault. Greg was right, he owed John an explanation, he just might not like it.

 

About two hours later John came shuffling up the stairs to his place, his face brightened up as he saw Sherlock standing outside his door. “I see Mr. Lestrade gave you my message.”

“Yes. He was very adamant that I speak with you and explain why I haven’t been around.”

John’s face fell, already expecting the worse. “Well come inside, I much rather speak in private.” John stepped past Sherlock, unlocking his door he held it open so Sherlock could enter. 

Once inside John offered Sherlock something to drink.

“No thank you.”

“Have a seat at least.”

Sherlock sat down and John sat next to him, his hands balled into fist in his lap. “So what is it Sherlock, are you secretly married and your partner is back in town?”

Sherlock looked baffled at John’s reasonings, “No. Nothing like that.”

“So what is it. Are actually straight?”

“No. Just, let me explain the best that I can.”

“Okay.” John smiled encouragingly.

“I haven't come back because I think it is best that you marry Mary.”

“What? How do you even know about that?”

“Please just hear me out. I know because I heard your thoughts. Mary asked you. And I agree, you and Mary work well together, and the  two of you are the same”

“And you and I aren't?

“No. I’m an angel John. It’s the reason I could hear your thoughts when you were thinking about Mary proposing to you. I was there on the roof when you were crying after Mr. Rodack died. And it really wasn’t your fault John.” Sherlock was speaking quickly, trying to get everything out. He could see John was getting increasingly upset, angry even. “I was there in the operating room and you did everything you could. It was just his time to go. John, this is also the reason why I don’t eat or drink; I can’t feel or smell any thing. It’s the reason why when we kissed I didn’t react. I want to feel your touch so badly, but I can’t.” 

Sherlock looked as if he was on the verge of tears. But John couldn’t believe what he was saying, there just wasn’t a way it could be, it had to be an elaborate ruse, a way to leave John and save face. “You’re lying, you’re a liar. Even if everything you’re telling me is the truth, then you have been lying to me from the start. You have mislead me and…frankly, I don’t believe you. If you want an excuse to leave, just leave. Go, there’s the door.” 

Sherlock jumped up from the couch and stalked to the kitchen, John ran behind him, “What are you doing?”

“Proving to you I’m telling the truth.” Sherlock grabbed a butcher knife, looking John in the eyes he sliced across his hand. 

“No, don't-” John tried to stop him at the last moment. Sherlock held up his hand to John’s face, showing him he wasn't hurt. “But I saw the knife go in, you felt that, I know you did.”

“But not in the way you would." Sherlock stared at John, imploring with his look to understand. "Only the dying can see me or people I choose to reveal myself to. You _felt_ me on the roof that day, you turned your hand up into mine.”

“No. I don't know what you're talking about.” John whispered, refusing to believe the evidence in front of him.

“John, please, believe me, there is a way we can be toget-”

“Get out.”

“John I-”

“GET OUT!”

In the space of of a breath Sherlock was gone; John blinked and no more Sherlock.  _ That’s not possible. _ Even though John knew in his heart Sherlock had been telling the truth, he searched his entire place looking for him. Nothing.

*******

Several weeks go by and neither John nor Sherlock are doing well. John has barely been eating, he’s losing weight and he isn’t particularly pleasant to anyone. Mary suggests again that they get married and go up to Harry’s cabin; John declines. He tells her he doesn’t think he is in any position to marry anyone and he believes it best if they went their separate ways. There were the usual tears and pleading; and then John doubting his decision. But the bottom line was that at night it wasn’t Mary he thought about; it was Sherlock. 

John was the one to tell Sherlock to leave. It was the most rash and idiotic decision he’d ever made. Some nights John swore he felt Sherlock there with him. And he would talk out loud, telling him about his day.

Today was particularly rough because now he officially had no one. He wanted to tell someone he had broken it off with Mary and how he was feeling about it.

John was thinking of going to Harry’s cabin just to get away from all the daily reminders of both Sherlock and the life he could’ve had with Mary.  _ Screw it.  _ John began packing a bag. He had a week off from work. He hadn’t been performing well and to avoid another Mr. Rodack situation he asked for some time off, starting today. 

 

Thinking about Mr. Rodack brought back Sherlock’s words the night John had put him out.  _ There’s a way we can be toget-. _

But John hadn’t wanted to listen, he was feeling hurt and betrayed. John paused in his packing. He wondered if Greg Lestrade knew about Sherlock’s secret. And if he did if he knew where Sherlock was. Maybe he even knew what Sherlock had been about to say.  John finished packing and headed out the door.

 

John pulled up outside of the police station. Greg was back to work on limited duties. He felt bad about pulling the man into his personal problems, but when John had did Lestrade's final examination, he seemed to be feeling down as well. But it didn’t mean it had anything to do with John and Sherlock’s issues. Sighing he got out of the car and entered the precinct. 

 

John asked for Lestrade at the front desk and waited a few moments before he was shown back to his office. Entering John gave a small smile and held out his hand to Greg, the other man grinned at him and pulled him into a near hug. 

“Give me the whole package doc. How are ya?” he asked as he let John go.

“I’ve been better. You, everything okay?”

“Yes, yes. Glad to be back at work. Sherlock?”

John sat in the seat next to him and instead of Lestrade sitting behind his desk, he sat in the chair next to John.

“So you haven’t heard from him either then?”

“Nope. I was rather hard on him the last time we talked and I haven’t seen nor heard from him since.” Lestrade explained.

“Yeah same here. He came to explain why he had been MIA and I just exploded on him. Are you aware of who he is really?” John asked quietly.

“You mean...wings?”

John nodded.

“Yeah. I use to be one too. Which is how he and I became friends, giving him advice about you.”

“The night he...the night I put him out, he was telling me something. I think,” John took a deep breath, “I think he was trying to tell me there was a way for us to be together. But how is that even possible?”

“He can fall. Fall from grace rather. He would be giving up so much. The closeness to God, the ability to never physically be hurt. He hears the heavenly choir every morning at sunrise. But, he was willing to give it all up for you. He loves you that much. He thought leaving you so that you could be with Mary was the right thing. But he was miserable without you. Most angels don’t fall in love and feel emotions like he does and I did, but we angels were given free will just like humans. I made the fall to be with Molly; Sherlock was completely ready to do it for you.”

John dropped his head in his hands, silent tears flowing. “Sometimes I feel like he is watching over me, like the feeling is so strong, is it possible? That he has been keeping an eye on me even though I was so awful to him?”

Lestrade put a comforting hand on John’s shoulder. “Of course. Love doesn’t just cease being because it’s unrequited, or two people are having problems or even if two people have mutually decided to split. And you have to remember, his love for you is in the purest of forms. It hasn’t been tainted by living as a human or his own selfish needs or wants. That’s why he left. Because he thought it was what was best for  _ you _ , to hell with what he wanted.” 

 

John broke down, quiet yet his grief was palpable. Lestrade reached out and wrapped an arm around John’s shaking shoulders while he released his pain. Lestrade couldn’t imagine what John was going through. He had been lucky, Molly loved him from the start and never looked back. They’d been together since he had fell. 

As John’s silent sobs subsided, Lestrade said a quiet prayer over him for strength. “The angels gather on the beach at sunrise and sunset. Go there, speak your mind, I’m sure he’ll hear you. Where are you headed now?”

John looked up blearily, “I’m heading to my sister’s cabin up north. Look, um, thanks Lestrade. And I'm sorry to...for-” John gestured with his hands, “for all of this.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wish I had been there for Sherlock. Anyway I can help,I will.” 

 

John wiped his face one last time before stepping out of Lestrade's office. He could feel eyes on him as he walked back through the precinct. Getting back in his car John debated what to do until sunrise, it was still several hours away. In the end he drove to the beach; he wasn’t hungry he just needed to be alone with his thoughts.

 

As the sun was setting, John closed his eyes, he swore he could feel hundreds of people or maybe angels standing around him. He didn’t care about them though, there was only one he was searching for. He began to speak, just like Lestrade said, “Sherlock. I don’t know where to begin. I guess I should start with sorry. I am so sorry I threw you out. I should have been more patient, understanding. I need you here with me. I feel so incom-” John paused, he swore he felt arms envelop him from behind. He was sitting on the sand, and he could clearly envision Sherlock sitting behind him, holding him. How he wished that was true. He continued with his confession, “I feel so incomplete without you. I spoke to Lestrade. He filled me in on the bits that I never gave you a chance to tell me. I’m sorry I'm such an...I'm sorry.” John sat there until full dark and then stood up dusting the sand off of himself and proceeded to drive to his sister's cabin.


	5. Chapter 5

Sherlock and Mycroft sat on the top of a highrise, legs dangling over the edge, and looking out on the city below. They were at least twenty stories up.

“Sherlock, why are you still moping around? You heard your human. He loves you.”

“He didn’t say that.”

“Neither have you, yet that fact remains true. You love him. And you will never be happy again without him. Everything you see and hear will be tinted by your love and experiences with John.”

Sherlock stared at Mycroft, thinking about what he said. Could he be happy again as an angel? It was true, he was currently very unhappy and everything reminded him of John.

“But what if he was only trying to make peace with me to clear his conscious? So he can move on cleanly with Mary.” Sherlock argued.

“That’s part of being human, the uncertainty, the risk. The hurting, healing and moving on. If you fall and John and you don’t work out, then you move on. But Sherlock you know I am speaking the truth.” Sherlock sat there pouting and thinking.

“You’re thinking too hard.” Mycroft commented as he shoved Sherlock off the roof. Yelling out after the falling angel, “Just decide Sherlock!”

 

Sherlock knew he had nothing to fear if he decided to stay an angel, even if he hit the the ground he would be fine. But if he decided to fall from grace, he had everything to fear. He would be hurting when he hit the ground, he would feel everything differently. If John rejected him that would hurt. He had no clue where his life would take him. Sherlock stared at the ground rapidly approaching, he closed his eyes and decided.

 

When Sherlock hit the ground he groaned. Opening his eyes it took a long moment for him to get his surroundings into focus. He tasted blood in his mouth, and he smiled, he’d succeeded. God bless Mycroft for forcing him into action. He gave a chuckle, it both hurt to move but felt great. It sent a ripple of joy through his body causing him to laugh again; and followed by another groan. He hurt all over. Sherlock attempted to get up, his limbs wobbled and wouldn’t hold his weight, he collapsed back against the ground. As more time passed Sherlock began hurting more and more.

Not a single person passed by him to offer help. Sherlock faded in and out of consciousness.

 

A couple of hours past, when he woke up again Sherlock noticed his body was hurting considerably less. Opening his eyes he noticed he was in a hospital room hooked up to a beeping machine.

“You did it you crazy bastard. How ya feel?” Sherlock looked towards the voice, Greg Lestrade sat in the seat next to his bed grinning like a proud father.

“Greg.” Sherlock’s voice came out hoarse. “I feel...broken...and…”

“I know buddy. I’m guessing John went down to the beach. Is that why you fell?

“Mycroft pushed me.”

“Wha?”

“I was speaking with my friend and fellow angel, Mycroft, when he told me I was thinking too hard and pushed me off the building.”

Lestrade hollered out loud laughing. “You don’t say? I need to meet this Mycroft.”

Sherlock groaned in pain. “He is, I guess, was a good friend. You would’ve liked him.”

“Well let me get you some clean clothes so we can get you out of here and to John.”

“John? Do you know where he is?”

Smiling widely Lestrade answered, “I do.”

Sherlock smiled back. “How did you find me anyways?”

“Somebody called in a dead body, I’m in homicide as you might remember, when we got to the scene, imagine my surprise to see it was you. And you weren't dead.”

Sherlock laid back against the pillows. “I’m glad you found me.”

“Yes. I had to come up with a last name for you, it’s Holmes by the way.”

“Sherlock Holmes. I like it.”

“You know what, it’s after four in the morning how about I let you get a couple more hours of sleep and I will return with some clothes for you in the morning.”

The medicine was making Sherlock sleepy, he nodded his consent to Lestrade as he pulled the covers up higher. “Thank you Le-” Sherlock yawned, “Lestrade.”

“You’re welcome. Get some rest.”

 

The next morning Lestrade brought Sherlock a change of clothes and a couple of other outfits, a wallet with some money in it along with a police report stating he was the victim of a mugging and all his identification was stolen. Just in case someone else in law enforcement stopped him and asked for some i.d.

“Okay buddy you ready?”

“I'm nervous.”

“You have every reason to be, but it’ll be alright.”

 

Two hours and forty-five minutes later Lestrade pulled up outside Harry’s cabin. He had looked up the address in the system at work. He turned to Sherlock, he looked petrified. Poor kid. He really hoped it all turned out okay for him. “Alright Sherlock. Get up there. If things don’t go well, I’ve included my phone number on a card in your wallet. But I suspect you won't be needing that.”

Sherlock looked at Lestrade, he felt like something very large was stuck in his throat. “Thank you Lestrade. For everything, I don’t think I could’ve done this without you.”

Lestrade gave him a quick clap on the back, and when Sherlock groaned, apologized. “You’re welcome. I wish we could’ve skipped all the heartache and gotten straight to the happily ever after. Now quit your stalling and get up there.”

Sherlock took a breath to steady himself and then got out of the car. Lestrade watched as Sherlock lifted a hand to knock on the door and pause before his hand made contact with the wood. Straightening his back and resolve, Sherlock knocked on the door hard. Lestrade wasn't ashamed to admit that he teared up a little when he saw the doc open the door and freeze, stared at Sherlock before grabbing him, pulling him into a tight embrace. Lestrade backed down the drive, away from the cabin and then started the long drive back home.

 

John went to the door and opened it at the sound of a loud and and insistent knock. When he opened the door he froze. He wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. Standing in his doorway was Sherlock looking worse for wear. His hair was a mess, there were bruises marring his usually perfect skin, and there was a scrape on the side of his face. But John had never seen him look more beautiful. Seeing these injuries meant he had fallen and they could now be together. John grabbed Sherlock, pulling him into a tight embrace. Slowly Sherlock’s arms crept up and wrapped around the shorter man.

John lost track of how long they stood in the doorway simply holding on to one another. Finally he let go of Sherlock. “How’s that for your first real hug?”

Sherlock smiled and tentatively reached out trace his fingertips along John’s jaw. “It was perfect.” He lowered his head, brushing his lips over John’s lightly. A shiver ran through him. He pulled back looking in John’s eyes, he smiled and then kissed him again, this time he locked their lips together, running his tongue along the seam of John’s lips. John opened up, admitting Sherlock's entrance. Their tongues danced a gentle duel, rolling over each other, tasting and taking. John carded his fingers through Sherlock’s curls, holding his angel to him. Sherlock moaned softly against John’s lips.

Sherlock pulled away first. “Can’t breath.” he panted. He rested his forehead against John’s, eyes closed. “So, that’s a kiss?”

“Yup.”

“I like it.”

 

John took Sherlock’s hand into his own and lead him into the cabin. John sat down on the couch, pulling Sherlock down beside him. Sherlock was looking at him like he was trying to memorize his face. “What is it Sherlock?”

Sherlock smiled, “I love you John.”

John smiled back broadly, “I love you Sherlock. Don't you ever leave me again.”

Sherlock kissed John tenderly. “I won’t, I promise.”

 

Still holding Sherlock’s hand, John got up and walked to the master suite. He instructed for Sherlock to sit on the bed. Sherlock did as instructed and watched transfixed as John knelt before him removing his shoes and socks. He reached out a hand trailing his fingers through John’s hair, light gold, streaked with gray.

John stood up, positioned between Sherlock’s thighs and began unbuttoning his long sleeve shirt. When finished he peeled it from Sherlock's body, he marveled at the move of muscle underneath his creamy skin. Sherlock sported bruises all over his upper body, varying in shades and color; but it did not detract from the beauty that was Sherlock.

John gently pushed Sherlock so that he was laying flat on his back, and proceeded to remove his boxers along with his jeans. He slid them down over his thighs, and past his calves. Sherlock shivered as the cool air raced over his flushed skin. John threw the jeans and boxers over his shoulder and kissed his way up Sherlock’s body; starting at his ankles and ending in a lazy kiss against his lips.

 

Sherlock acting purely on instinct rolled, effectively trapping John beneath his body. He trailed loving fingers along his jaw, down his chin and across his collarbone. John let his eyes flutter close, as he reveled in Sherlock’s touch. Sherlock undressed John just as John had done for him. Every item of clothing removed was like a new surprise to Sherlock; John was all toned muscle.

Sherlock kissed and explored every inch of John’s body, taking note of what pleased the other man the most, what elicited sighs and moans of pleasure.

John was dying, he was sure of it. Or dreaming. There was no way this was real. Sherlock here, worshiping every inch of his body. He could lay here like this all day, kissing and touching one another.

Sherlock made his way back up John’s body, spreading his thighs so that he had better access to what he sought. Sherlock fused his mouth to John’s as he explored the outer limits of John’s entrance. Pressing against the muscle, lightly probing. Sherlock knew that he needed some sort of lubrication for this to work properly and he asked John what was needed.

John was a mess, he could barely focus on what Sherlock was asking him. He was hard as a rock and Sherlock was taking his sweet time with him, he swore he would come before they even got to any sort of penetrative sex.

 _Lube._ Oh gosh, he finally figured out what Sherlock was asking him. Well, he hadn’t came here with intentions of having sex, so he hadn’t brought any, and since his sister was a lesbian, he doubted she had any either. John pushed lightly against Sherlock’s chest, getting his point across so he could climb out of bed in search of something that could be used as lube. He went to the bathroom and thank the heavens he found a jar of petroleum jelly. He grinned at Sherlock as he tossed him the jar. John climbed back into the bed and pulled Sherlock down so he could kiss him breathless.

 

Sherlock coated two of his fingers with the petroleum and went back to exploring John’s entrance, prepping him. Sherlock kissed and licked all over John’s upper half while he worked at opening him up.

He now had 3 fingers working in and out of John slowly. John had his eyes tightly shut, and his mouth hung open as he panted into the cool air. John begged him, “Please Sherlock, please.”

 

Sherlock gently removed his fingers from John. With his other hand he scooped up some more petroleum and spread it over his own length. He moaned, eyes closing at the sensation. He’d never touched this part of himself and it felt amazing.

John watched as Sherlock touched himself, and the look of unadulterated pleasure was almost enough to make John come.

Pulling himself together Sherlock opened his eyes. Leaning forward he kissed John as he snagged one of the pillows from the head of the bed and tucking it underneath John’s hips.

Pulling back slightly, the men looked into each other's eyes as Sherlock slowly entered John.

John tried to keep his eyes open but the feeling was just too intense. It had been a long time since he had been with a man, the sweet sting of being stretched had him mewling quietly.

Sherlock closed his eyes too after John, his legs shook with the effort of not slamming himself into John. This was his first sexual act and he wanted it to be perfect. The fact that it was with John and hopefully always with John, already made it meaningful.

John and Sherlock rocked against one another, quietly moaning, sharing the air between the two of them. John whispered words of encouragement to Sherlock, telling him how good a job he was doing, how good it felt. John ran his nails down Sherlock’s back, digging them into his lower back.

Sherlock was lost in the sensation. He was cocooned by John; he was deep inside John, and he felt every shudder and ripple of John’s body around him; it was pushing him closer to the edge. “John…” he cried out breathlessly.

“Yes, yes...Sherlock.”

Sherlock began moving faster, rubbing over John’s sweet spot with each deep thrust.

John’s cock was trapped between their writhing bodies, being stroked and stimulated with every movement. “Sher- oh...Sherlock...Ahh” John cried one final time and came, his body releasing between the two of them.

Sherlock looked down watching as John convulsed around him, squeezing Sherlock tight. He began thrusting hard and erratically against John and soon he was coming too. He collapsed against John as he emptied his seed into his lover.

John and Sherlock lay with limbs entwined, fighting to catch their breaths for what seemed like a lifetime. Finally Sherlock rolled off of the smaller man, his body feeling boneless.

“That was...amazing Sherlock. Absolutely, irrevocably amazing. John slowly climbed off the bed and went to the bathroom coming back with a warm rag, he wiped down Sherlock’s front, dipping between his legs to make sure he cleaned him of all the remnants of their lovemaking. He then returned to the bathroom to rinse the rag and clean himself. When he had finished he climbed back in the bed, Sherlock opened his arms, and John crawled into them.

It was a good day.

Both men dozed off to sleep smiling and completely content.


	6. Chapter 6

Sherlock woke up to an empty bed. He groaned, still sore from his fall. He needed to take the pain medicine that Lestrade gave him, saying it would help.

Getting out of bed, he snagged his jeans pulling them back on not bothering with fastening them. He walked to the kitchen, he didn’t see John; he looked out both the front and back doors, he was nowhere to be found. Shrugging his shoulders and thinking nothing of it Sherlock made his way to the bathroom. Having to use these facilities was a new experience for him.

After relieving his bladder Sherlock turned to the shower; it took him several minutes to figure out how to work it and get the water to an acceptable temperature.

Sherlock climbed into the shower, taking his time and letting the water cascade over him, it helped to alleviate some of the soreness racking his body.

 

John had taken his bike down to the local market about a mile up the road. He had wanted to surprise Sherlock with a couple of foods. Things he thought he would enjoy. First on the list was popcorn of course. Surprise, surprise that his sister didn’t have any popcorn at her cabin.

It was a beautiful day and he had plenty to be happy and thankful for, he didn't mind the short trip to the store.

John started his short trek back up to the cabin, smiling and thinking of all the things he would show and teach Sherlock.

The road back to the cabin was usually empty and isolated; it was a back road and most of the people in these parts biked or walked to the store. John was feeling extremely grateful for the turn his life had taken and felt the need to express just that. He closed his eyes for a moment and said a small prayer of thanks, reveling in the feel of the sun on his face.

 

Sherlock got out of his shower hoping that John would be back. He wasn’t. Sherlock went back to the bedroom and dressed back in the clothes he had taken off; he was putting on his shoes when he felt the overwhelming need to turn his face towards the sky and offer a prayer of thanksgiving. He was just lowering his head back down and opening his eyes when he heard the screech of tires accompanied by a loud horn.

Instinct had him running out the door and down to the road he just _knew_ John was in trouble. His heart hammered in his chest as he prayed a litany over and over that John be okay. When he got to the road all he see was a flatbed truck carrying lumber and flares on the road.

Sherlock walked slowly around the truck still praying. When he was finally able to see what lay on the other side of the truck he began crying sagging to his knees. He was so overcome with emotion he could no longer stand. Looking back up through watery eyes he saw John staring back at him mouth wide and breathing heavy. He was still straddling the bike but both feet were on the ground. He was mere inches away from the truck.

John got off his bike and walked it over to where Sherlock was, laying the bike down he sat next to him, he pulled the ex angel into his arms, whispering soothing words.

“Thank you. Thank you. Mycroft, thank you.” Sherlock kept repeating.

Mycroft was standing in the spot John had just vacated. Mycroft had saved John’s life, and John didn’t even realize what had transpired.

John looked behind him, he didn’t see anyone. “Is there an angel here?” he asked quietly, still rock Sherlock gently.

Sherlock nodded, tears still flowing.

“Did he just save my life?”

Sherlock nodded again.

“Dear God.” John sagged against Sherlock, feeling shock over how close he had come to dying and losing his chance with Sherlock. “Thank you Mycroft, wherever you are.”

John felt a hand on his shoulder, he smiled. Opening his eyes he was able to see the angel. “Take care of my brother for me.” John nodded up in awe. Mycroft disappeared.

 

Sherlock and John made their way back to the cabin, both shook up from the ordeal.

“I guess it’s kind of hard not to believe anymore.” John said giving a humorless chuckle.

“Some people get saved repeatedly and never believe. People are very strange.” Sherlock responded.

“But you’re a people now Sherlock, are you going to become all strange too?” John was joking but Sherlock took the question seriously.

“I will endeavour to remain true to who I was made to be, even as a human."

Sherlock turned suddenly John, taking both of his hands in his and dropping to one knee. “Marry me John! I have no job, and no money to buy you a ring yet, but I will always love you and put you before myself. Please marry me.”

John got teary eyed. He guessed it was now his turn to get emotional and cry.

Another proposal was the last thing he had expected during his time off. But this man before him gave up heaven to be by his side, he couldn’t deny him a simple request such as marriage. He nodded his head slowly at first then more vigorously repeating yes, over and over again. Sherlock stood up, gathering him in his arms, kissing him all over his face. “Thank you John.”

 

John pulled away laughing. “Okay, now time for you to experience a couple of things for the second time.” John went into the kitchen and Sherlock followed behind. John got busy making popcorn on the stove, none of the microwave stuff tonight. “My sister has satellite t.v. here, we can get a bunch of channels. Do you know what type of movie you would like to watch?”

The popcorn started to pop, Sherlock hearing the sound jumped out of his seat and curiously stood over the pot watching intently as each seed turned itself inside out to become a white puff of fluffy goodness.

When it was done, John nudged Sherlock out of the way and emptied the popcorn into a bowl. Next he grabbed two cups and filled them with wine.

“Grab the bowl.”

Sherlock did as instructed and followed John back out to the living room. They sat the items on the coffee table and cuddled up on the couch.

John turned to Sherlock, “Now, what type of movie do you wanna watch? Something funny, scary, serious, action or romantic?”

Sherlock thought about it. But he really had no clue what type of movie would be suitable. “You pick. I trust your judgement.”

John began scrolling through the movies listed on the screen. He didn’t think something sad or religious would be a good idea. And maybe not anything gory either. He finally settled on Speed, an oldie but goodie. He grabbed the bowl of popcorn sitting in between the two of them. As the opening credits were coming up he feed Sherlock a piece of popcorn. He watched as Sherlock’s eyes closed and savored the taste. “You were right. You described it perfectly.” Sherlock said as he leaned over and kissed John quickly against the lips.

 

The duo watched the movie and ate popcorn enjoying one another's company. When the movie was over, John notice Sherlock was yawning. It wasn’t that late, but he guess he needed his sleep, he _was_ recovering from the fall. John turned off the t.v. and went to the bedroom and came back out with the blanket from the bed. “Come on Sherlock.”

He lead the way outside to the back patio. John passed the blanket to Sherlock as he pushed two lounging chairs together. Running back inside he turned out all the outside lights.

“Come lay with me.” John laid down in one chair and pulled Sherlock into the other, spreading the blanket over the two of them. “I love looking up at the stars at night. But it’s hard to find a good spot to actually see them in the city.” John explained. He looked over to Sherlock who was staring up at the sky in mild wonder.

“Everything seems so different now.” he whispered. “I’ve seen these same stars a million times over and I feel like I'm seeing them for the first time.” Sherlock looked at John giving him his most sincere smile.

John pulled him into a kiss, keeping it light and playful. The men settled back against in the chairs, holding one another.

 

*******

“Sherlock hurry! You don’t want to be late!” Lestrade yelled out at him.

Sherlock was nervous, today was the second biggest day of his existence, the first being the day he fell. 7 months had passed since that day, he was now working as a consulting detective, where he helped Lestrade out quite a bit. It seemed that living on the outside of human life all that time gave him a keen insight into the way they thought and acted. He was very good at his job.

He and John had moved into a place on the outskirts of town so they could watch the stars every night. Mycroft visited Sherlock often wanting to be filled in on his new life as much as possible. Sherlock missed his old friend and fellow brother in arms. But at least Mycroft hadn’t abandoned him completely. Sherlock rushed to the back door of their house and paused. Looking out at the scene in front of him. Molly was at the front of the crowd holding a baby, she saw him looking and waved. He waved back smiling broadly.

The crowd was small, mainly made up of people Sherlock or John had helped along the way.

“Are you ready brother mine?” John turned and smiled warmly at Mycroft. He would be forever grateful to this angel. “Yes.”

 

The music started up and Sherlock and Mycroft marched down the flower strewn aisle, at a slow measured pace. When they reached the front Mycroft went and stood to the right of Sherlock, as Sherlock looked back at the door he had just walked through. John was now walking down that same aisle accompanied by Lestrade. Sherlock stood transfixed, he was about to marry John Watson, the only person he ever loved.

John reached Sherlock’s side and Lestrade stood moved to the left of him. A tear escaped John's eye and Sherlock reached up wiping it away. John had never felt more happy or fulfilled in his life. His family was complete.

The men went through their vows and made their pledges to one another and when the Minister announced “You may now kiss in holy matrimony.” they looked at each other and then moved forward as a single unit, kissing in front of the small group.

When they pulled apart someone showered them with flower petals and Sherlock laughed.

Somewhere behind him a baby started crying, he turned towards the cry instinctually. Mycroft was passing him a 9 month old little girl. When she saw Sherlock she stopped crying and started cooing. Sherlock nuzzled the little girl, kissing her wayward curls. John leaned over and gave her a loud kiss against the cheek.

“How is our little angel?” he said in a high pitched voice usually reserved for babies and pets. 

The little girl reached out for John and he took her happily, throwing her in the air and tickling her when she came back down. Sherlock looked on with a smile. Martha Louise was another miracle addition to his life, he and John had adopted her when she was just 4 months old. She had been left outside the hospital where John worked. The night John found her, he had exited through a side door instead of the normal employees entrance; it was like she was meant to be apart of their lives.

People were gathering around offering them well wishes and congratulating them.

  
Sherlock looked around him, happy and reflecting; he had everything he could ever want, a husband who loved him, a daughter who adored him and a lifetime ahead of him to enjoy it all. He'd found the place where he belonged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this. The last chapter was my favorite to write and couldn't stop smiling while doing it. If only we all had such happy endings. 
> 
> Hope this story lived up to your expectations ZygomataAmore! For you with love.

**Author's Note:**

> http://m.imdb.com/title/tt0120632/


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